Towns cheer and citizens march with lilted and joyful hearts at the sight of the funeral equipment convoying through their streets. Matériel strains massive tractors that fill both lanes and require entire power grids to be dismantled. The shadows cast on bay windows and the high frequency screams of the pavement under their tires and treads give away their presence, even at night with the lights off and shutters locked. Rand Paul is sometimes seen riding a load, his cowboy hat making bone cracking and tree felling sounds that somehow fill closed spaces and continue after he disappears over the horizon. Ron Paul Funeral City, 350,000,000 dead
Anonymous asked: Ron Paul's City is toast, hurricanes would destroy it in minutes
Ron Paul’s Funeral City is the hurricane
Desperate calls from the UN, for Ron Paul’s Funeral City to integrate with established international bodies, are heeded. Emissaries of the Funeral City stream out through time. 350,000,000 dead
uglysowwithhumanface asked: This one brings forth a query before the heralds of the erection of monuments and the blotting out of the sun and stars. Firstly, how may one such as I, constrained as I am to a hospital bed, work to undermine and deny the false adjurations of those who speak against the glory of the Funeral City? And secondly, where may one such as I, wracked and fettered as I am by disease, gaze upon the panchrest corona? Is it necessary to inscribe a set of imitation Nazca patterns to replenish my youth?
Wait for the truck marked “Outlaw” Wait for the stones that weep yellow and shine like frozen blades
Lower your ruined body onto a trestle, and join the stones at the feet of the city :^)
Anonymous asked: this old house
Are you coming to Ron Paul’s galloping stone house at the terminus of all tomb veins under The Funeral City
Guest post by Félix Labillois, edited by Ron Paul Funeral City media representative
Overnight, the bedside water-tumblers of Rand Paul’s network of friends spontaneously generate singular flawless calves’ eyes. The eyes, representing the clarity and purity, of both vision and thought required to imagine the new world of just actions. Just actions that the resurrection will force about for the fortunate and faithful. These eyes are immediately consumed by the blessed followers, who have spent the past twenty-four months calming filling all bodies of government and business and laying the groundwork for the deft bit of financial action which will direct all remaining fluid currency in the world towards the formulation of a specially impervious metal alloy and the casting of that alloy into the many ritual knives, each one to be placed at the head of each of a reinforced concrete funerary trough. Twenty-four months ago Rand Paul, who was given a message by and through the immaterial realm, large carp swam into his bedroom, gazed at him, and spoke to him. Rand recognized this male fish as a sacred missive and slit him open. The guts heaped upon the heated wooden panel floor and formed a sign – the split staff of wheat. He knew to choose thousands of his male followers to become the new semi solid mass who would forge the ritual knives, and precede the renewal of many edifices.
With each man accepting this, being tainted by politics and central government administration along with its regulation of commerce, he would become, like his knives, sacred. He would not be killed or sacrificed, and so never resurrected. One by one, each man accepted his fate, then, consuming his eye, he recites the threnody as one of 200,000 beautiful, pounding of a joyous tenor, bass, and alto voices:
We will be lone
We will be chemical
We will be the beds of flower beds
Upon which the resurrected may make love
350,000,000 dead will come awake in paradise
We 200,000 dead will remain sacred and silent beneath their feet
This is enough
This is enough
Ron Paul Funeral City 350,000,000 dead
Ron Paul Funeral City media representative note: this post was written by Dylan Ingraham, edited by a rpfc media representative, and submerged in a well for 3 days, on the 4th day it returned to dry land without any mortal intervention.
Anonymous asked: do you have any advice on (fingerless?) gloves? I need some for warmth to wear while typing but I don't know anything about quality clothes
When the funeral city is consecrated, when the dead rise, beautiful and pure, there will be no need for gloves. First the fingers will sift into component proteins and all gloves will be like those you search for. And when the Venusian becoming has swept the sky clean, what remains of each glove will be gathered together to soften the return from the underworld of Ron Paul’s animal heralds.
hotdadsgiftwrapperservice asked: what the fuck is this
A cell network of harriers and couriers of the building and coming consecreation of Ron Paul’s funeral city. 350,000,000 dead
bubblebathosbands asked: Demonic refers to death comprehended as a moral reality
Handball sized and melon colored nodules bloom on the bodies of the faithful. Ron Paul’s reloveution begins as millions of nodes and boils on the necks and chests of ron paul’s liberated followers erupt, gushing torrents of unprocessed grain. Rye blooms from sleeping bodies. Wheat flows can be paddled through like river water. Amaranth and moringa create beautiful fractal patterns as they swell against the skin. the eve of one of the Venusian Becoming, one of the first cosmological events that are said to precede the opening of Ron Paul’s Funeral City. 350,000,000 dead
pictured: landscape control station somewhere inside Ron Paul’s Funeral City. Ron Paul declares that earth as it stands will be stripped away and then renewed to cause the flowering of the chosen fruit plant and the righting of all former wrongs. 350,000,000 dead
An uncountable choir of children dressed as angels sings the votive antiphon. Wild birds swarm around them, land over and between them. Children howl in fear and delight but never stop singing. Geysers of birds erupt from the decks as the mass of children’s voices are led to a femata crescendo, when the notes abruptly stop, the birds plummet lifelessly toward the boats, some crashing into the deck and into the choir members, most reviving miraculously as the children begin singing again. Soon the boats dock at their destination, Ron Paul’s Funeral City, 350000000 dead
Hundreds of cities are extinguished by unexplained cataracts appearing at mid levels of banking towers and battering the cities below with millions of liters of incredibly clean water. The remnants of effective government pour money into equipment to navigate and tame the new swamp cities.
Rand Paul delivers a speech from the padded crown of an aluminium tower, mounted on 4 massive barges, shifting through the ruins by banks of fan engines on 3 sides. The loud speakers and antennas broadcast his speech to the uncountable gathered amphibious trucks and small boats of a formerly thriving American city:
Rot and musk
Silt and bones
Eternal life awaits
Just past the gates
Of my Father’s Funeral City
And after a cacophony of fans cranking up and powering on, he glides away. 350,000,000 dead
Full text of a Ron Paul Funeral City media representative’s answers to the questions of a busybody journalist. Liberal media bias will be swept away when Ron Paul’s Funeral City is sanctified. Interview excerpts http://theithacan.org/24715 Full text follows:
In the Sumerian religions, once one dies and enters the underworld, one cannot leave without finding another to take their place. Ron Paul leads an ideology that calls for a retrieval of the past. The only way to bring the past and its people back is an immense sacrifice, 350,000,000. Ron Paul’s followers are willing and grateful to be sacrificed, not only because they love him and believe in him, but because they know, that like the sun and wind god Nergal in the Sumerian religion, who entered the underworld and seduced Ereshkigal, he will enter the underworld and bring all of his loyal followers back to life, eternally.
A funeral city is a complex built to house those who will be sacrificed, the master of sacrifices and his household, and the priests who lead the individual purification rituals before the mass sacrifice. Ron Paul’s Funeral City is being built by Rand Paul, who fills the role of Enkimdu, the god of canals and ditches. Rand, who was given the name of an illustrious “chief spirit figure” in a Cahokian Death Cult ceremony- a copper maskette hiding his face until he was completely transformed into a vessel for the spirit of their patron’s own deity. The funerary complex also holds all of the other facilities necessary for burial in preparation for mass resurrection, and provides a locus for the return of millions from the underworld after Ron Paul enters and begins his Seduction. This will take place on an altar that takes the place of a 4000 hectare forest that was ceremonially crushed with massive custom built machines, then was burnt, and the complex built on top, with no grading
Ron Paul’s visions and consultations with ancestors have given him a clarity of vision, if he looks to the east, he sees what came before, if he looks west, he sees what is to come. This is why he calls for an end to the folly of central government administration, and a return to the resilient and willful independence of each Sumerian City-State, and those states from so far in the human past that we have no names for them. Ron Paul sees their flourishing and sees their fall.
The sacrifice can only happen when a cosmological period known as a 50 day Venusian cycle begins, while coinciding with a set of earthly signs that he alone knows. When it happens, there will be signals, and the years of preparation for his Funeral City will be culminated in front of an aching and adoring world.
Does Ron Paul have 350,000,000 followers, will they all answer his call to die? Does the moon rise from the underworld each night, does the sun rise on the breath of God? Are there 350,000,000 people who don’t want eternal life in a remade world?
protip: if you’re sick, drink a jug of room temperature water and you’ll be fine within an hour guaranteed :)
When Margaret Thatcher was asked about her greatest achievement, she promptly answered: “New Labour.” And she was right: her triumph...
hey i got new blanket i don’t think i’ll have to sleep in my winter coat again tonight